New Year's Eve
by yellow 14
Summary: On the last day of the year 1198, the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron talk. Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition round 11.


Disclaimer: Don't own and never will.

AN: Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition round 11.

The day was drawing to a close and night was falling about the castle. A night just like any other night really and another day that had passed since she had been murdered. It almost felt maudlin really, dwelling on the past like this. It had been…how many years now? She couldn't really remember to be honest; she had lost count somewhere around forty or fifty. It had been a long time after all. Or at least, long enough.

Not long enough to forgive and forget though. She had her limits after all and she was no more forgiving in her death than she was in life. He might wear his chains in penance, but it was an empty gesture. Like her mother, Helena Ravenclaw valued actions over such purposeless gestures. It was one of many traits she shared with her mother really.

She suspected that he enjoyed the clanking effect as well.

"A beautiful evening, is it not?" the Baron asked and he settled down beside her. Helena simply ignored him. In life he had been a friend and on more than one occasion she had debated philosophy and magic with him. But now he was going to ask the same question he had asked every single time this particular night of the year came around. If she were alive, she would challenge him, make him think like he used to. She knew he still did from time to time, but he never did with her. Instead she ignored him.

"It's good that the last day of the year should end so well," he continued, as though she had not just ignored him. It was predictable as ever and yet she let him continue. It was practically a ritual in fact. Instead she simply concentrated on watching the stars.

"A night where the old grudges and resentments can be left behind and the new year started afresh."

She knew exactly what he was going to say. It wasn't like it was anything new. She really should stop him, she thought to herself. And yet, she said nothing.

"It has been many years. Surely now is the time to forget the past?"

"Perhaps you should tell that to your own house?" Helena suggested unkindly. "They still bear a grudge about Salazar leaving and they blame Gryffindor, while Gryffindors blame Slytherins for everything that is bad in the world. I suspect that they would blame them for original sin if they had the chance. They're as bad as each other if you ask me. Some of them had never even heard about the split until they came here and half of them have parents who could never have even met the founders. They have far less reason to keep their grudge and yet they still do. Why should I be any different when my cause is far greater?"

"I have made my penance. Have I not yet earned the right to be forgiven?" the Baron demanded and Helena sniffed.

"You have been wearing those chains for less than a century," she replied grimly. "And yet, there was a ghost in France who, it is claimed, wore chains for a thousand years as penance for his crimes before being finally forgiven. Why should I be any less kind?"

"You are not an innocent in this!" the Baron snapped at her, his face flushed with emotion, or at least as much as his ghostly visage would allow. "You broke your mother's heart and even as she lay dying you still refused to come!"

Helena folded her arms and leaned forward to show him her stab wound. Thrust right into her shoulder where the neck joined the body, it was a brutal and ultimately fatal wound. The Baron winced at the uncomfortable reminder of his actions.

"I paid the price for my sins. A price you inflicted on me without any trial save your own anger. I cannot say the same for you," she replied and she turned away to hide the tear that rolled down her ghostly cheek. Her sins were far worse than just refusing to come home, but she was not going to tell him the whole truth. She had her pride. And her shame. Her constant, insistent shame for what she did.

"The king forgave his brother John for his betrayal," the Baron countered. "He could have executed him and yet he did not."

"True he did not," Helena conceded, before looking firmly at the Baron. "But he is a living human, constrained by the limitations of time. He failed however and you did not and now I have all of eternity to forgive you. Why should I rush?"

"Why should you wait? It is already the year eleven ninety-eight and come midnight, it will be eleven ninety-nine, the last year of the century. Do you want to end the century still bitter? How much longer do I need to show you how much I regret what I did? How much I still regret what I did?" the Baron was becoming agitated and Helena raised an eyebrow.

"If you find your penance such an onerous task, you are free to cast your chains aside," she replied sharply. "You will find no argument from me. But don't expect my forgiveness as well. You have not earned that privilege yet."

"Why do you always insist on being so stubborn?" he exclaimed in exasperation and Helena shook her head.

"Because that is what I am. In the same way you are a passionate man, I am a stubborn woman," she replied almost dispassionately. In truth, she couldn't even begin to really forgive herself for her crimes and their consequences, how could she forgive others? But again she stayed silent. Her mother had gone to her grave with this secret, and Helena was not about to betray that trust as a ghost. "A thousand years, that ghost waited and waited. It is something for you to think about over the course of the new year."

"You are impossible woman!" he snapped and he floated away. Helena watched him go with a hint of sadness in her eyes. She looked at the sandglass beside her, enchanted as it was to accurately measure time. When the sands ran out, it would be midnight. And the sands had almost run out.

As the last grains of sand ran through, she looked at the clear starry night.

"Forgive me mother, I never wanted you to be hurt like this," she murmured. The stars remained silent and as the first hour of the new year began, Helena allowed herself a small sob. Yet again, another year without the slightest sign from her mother. With a sigh, she made her way to the Ravenclaw common room.


End file.
